...All of a sudden I feel hopeless and alone. I want to be with my friends, but, they are spread to the corners of the earth, and good luck to them. Nope, I just have to hold them in my memory, hold ‘em close and remember the way it used to be. It’s a damn shame, the way we grow up and separate, carried by the wind. I guess that’s the way we prosper, seeds on the edge of the storm, waiting to be laid down; getting our roots into something solid. Meanwhile, I am desperate for the comfort of the way things were, the way it was - when the future was a mere fancy, and not the reality. I wish them well, God bless ‘em, wherever they may rest their heads, wherever they are getting their kicks. My kicks are swimming at the bottom of a bottle, swaying to and fro, as I clear out a bottle of beer and let it ride through me, past the shame and the regret.
The strange part is knowing that they are out there, doing their own thing, engaged in ongoing conversations, thoughts of me as vague as the dreams we once shared. I know this kind of talk is shallow; it’s rare to find a kindred spirit. If it’s difficult by day it’s nigh impossible when the moon is high, shrouding the connections in layers of thick fog. Even as I engage I am disengaged, my mouth moves while my soul is frozen. I don’t even lament the shallows of these collisions; it’s inevitable, isn’t it? To careen into another when journeying through the night; headlights off and blind drunk…
